


Perfect Style

by buttstrife (orphan_account)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, M/M, Pick-Up Lines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 09:16:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3686736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/buttstrife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa is a fashion model who bumps into the famous underwear model, Ushijima.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect Style

The photographer groans, looking at the two models in front of him, and puts down his camera to light a cigarette. Before heading off to the top floor, he shouts, “I want chemistry! Both of you are very attractive but you need to fucking sell this product so that even my fucking grandmother wants to buy this shit.”

 

Oikawa steps away from Shimizu, sharing a look with her. They both know they have no chemistry together.

 

(“You’re cute, but you’re also self-absorbed and you’d probably kiss your own ass rather than mine,” Shimizu once said as she examined her nails. “Also, I have a girlfriend.”

 

“Touche,” Oikawa replied while reading through the recent comments on his Instagram. “We all know that I’m too good-looking anyway. It’d never work.”)

 

Oikawa knows why his agent got him this photoshoot: good pay, famous denim company, and his body _is_ a wonderland that would make even the most prudish jerk off to kingdom come. And Oikawa knows how many strings Iwaizumi pulls when it comes to photographers like Ukai who cannot stand his attitude, but that doesn’t stop him from walking off the set.

 

Running up and down the stairs is all he can do to burn off excess energy. Oikawa knows where his weaknesses lie. His modelling agency, Blue Leaves, loves and hates him. Photographers, other models, even Iwaizumi, love and hate him.

 

(“You’re hard-working, charming and smart, but you have to stop looking at other people as though they’re your competition,” Iwaizumi told him, giving Oikawa a frown that stopped whatever retort he had in mind. “They are your competition, but that doesn’t mean you have to drive them all away. I can’t always get you solo jobs. Sometimes, you have to work with people and look like you’re enjoying it, so for one second, could you please put aside your pride and just show everyone what I know you’re absolutely capable of doing?”)

 

And Oikawa doesn’t blame them. He doesn’t make it easy to work with him. One time he nearly backhanded a teenager for being new and not understanding how he liked to work. One time he—

 

“Shit,” Oikawa apologises, grimacing at the spilled coffee all over the handsome stranger’s beige cashmere sweater.

 

“Yeah, shit,” the stranger agrees, his deep voice sounding not too pleased. He sighs, still holding his half-empty coffee cup, and looks down at his sweater, evaluating the damage done.

 

Oikawa sees him mumble under his breath and realises why the stranger looks so familiar. “Ushiwaka,” Oikawa says after racking his brain. In front of him is a famous underwear model – someone Oikawa has never worked with, but has seen plenty of in advertisements.

 

“Ushijima,” the man corrects. “The name is Ushijima Wakatoshi. Please don’t call me Ushiwaka.”

 

“Ushiwaka,” Oikawa says, “sorry about the sweater. I’ll pay for the dry cleaning.”

 

Ushijima waves his free hand. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t like it that much anyway.” He gives Oikawa his mug, which Oikawa accepts with a disgruntled expression.

 

“What are you doing here?” Oikawa asks, trying to make small talk. Wouldn’t hurt to have big fish as friends. “Thought you only modelled undergarments.”

 

“I’m here for a friend,” Ushijima replies before taking off his sweater, revealing his impressive physique. Only an underwear model would be so casual about taking off his clothes in front of strangers. “He wanted some moral support on his first day of work.”

 

“Right,” Oikawa says, although truthfully, he stopped listening long ago. He notices Ushijima motioning for his cup back in his own discrete, polite way. Oikawa begins to hand back the cup when he drops it, unflinching when it shatters on the concrete floor.

 

“Shit, sorry, hand slipped,” Oikawa says. “I’ll make it up to you – how about dinner tonight?”

 

Ushijima frowns, noticing coffee on his leather pants now.

 

“And maybe take off those god ugly pants,” Oikawa suggests, even though they both know that the pants are more godly than god ugly. “You look a lot better with nothing on anyway.”

                                                                                                                                                                            

(Oikawa does end up having dinner with Ushijima later that night at a small sushi train in Ikebukuro, where he also discovers that Ushijima is happy to model absolutely nothing in the privacy of their own company.)


End file.
